Racing Lightning
by T. F. Kit
Summary: This is an AU Crossfic between movie and television universes... Racing is in the blood and bullheadedness runs in the family. It is Alan's turn to find out how driven he is.
1. Chapter 1

**Racing Lightning**

**Chapter One**

**by T.F. Kit**

She was pinned trapped beneath the wreckage of the flaming car. Something had gone terribly wrong with her ejection sequencer and now she was trapped. The flames were licking at her feet her sides, smoke was filling the air around her and seeping into her lungs.

She coughed through the haze that was filling her vision. She tried to focus on what to do next but she couldn't move she was cinched into her seat by twisted metal. She tried to pull her arm around and cried out in pain, pulling in a large lung full of smoke. She coughed chocking on it pulling in more and more.

_I am going to die here._ She thought. _I don't have anyway out... I have no way to save myself._

She closed her eyes feeling the heat begin to blister her jacket.

"You are almost as crazy as I am." The blue eyed golden blond haired boy said, looking over to the figure splattered in mud.

"What do you mean almost." For her part she laughed, as she took off her helmet. "I am far crazier than you and well someone had to show you who is boss."

"Yeah but did you have to send me into the mud hollow? I am going to be cleaning this engine for a month." He stepped off of a once blue motorbike, now brown motorbike.

"No... I will be cleaning it out because you will screw up the engine." She smiled at him letting her long blond braid fall down her back.

"So are you saying I don't know how to work on engines, sis?" There was mock disbelief in his voice.

"Well duh, you are a pilot, not a mechanic" She shook her head, just as an elderly voice came through her wrist communicator.

"Celesta, Scott... dinner is almost ready, you might want to head on up."

Celesta lifted her wrist and pushed the button there. "We're on our way grandma... just need to shower off. Be up in ten."

"Well... hurry. Virgil is getting hungry." Scott looked at Celesta in surprise. "That must mean Gordon is famished if Virgil is hungry."

"We'll hurry, grams don't worry." They moved with greater speed, wheeling their motorbikes into the work area and heading off to the showers.

When they reached the dinning room, Celesta had her hair re-braided and still wet, and Scott was slipping a shirt on over a slightly damp torso. They were laughing about something random when they looked up their laughter trailed off.

Sitting at the table were not only their four younger brothers and their grand mother also directly in front of them was their father, Jeff Tracy, the patriarch of the Tracy family. His hair, now heavily streaked with gray, was kept relatively short and only a few wrinkles were showing around the blue gray eyes.

A quick assessment revealed a relatively good mood and Scott let go a small amount of tension he had been holding in his chest. There were things he knew his father wanted to talk to him about and they were not necessarily going to be pleasant, but he hoped they would be accepted.

Celesta returned the quirk of a smile. The things that she was going to be talked to about would not be near as accepted as what Scott was disusing but the outcome would not deter her from doing what she loved.

"Having fun?" Jeff asked.

Smiles spread across both kids faces and they moved up. Jeff stood and walked to his daughter first giving her a tight hug. Then he moved to Scott also giving him a hug, if a bit more manly.

"When did you arrive?" Celesta asked as she moved to the table.

"Yeah we didn't hear a plane." Scott said pulling away from his dad.

"You mean you can hear a jet engine over those over glorified lawn mowers on two wheels?" Their was humor in his voice and Scott gave a playful push.

"Mostly," Celesta said sitting down.

"Come on guys... I am starving." Scott and Jeff looked at Gordon, who actually was wearing a light polo along with his swim trunks, grams wouldn't let him just wear those to the table and the speedo was defiantly out.

"Okay... okay... lets..." Jeff started.

"..Pray." Grandma Tracy said with finality, folding her hands in front of her.

"Of course." Jeff responded taking his seat.

_It is the jumps that will get ya. _

Cars raced past cameras, blurs of color.

_I need to wait pull back then punch it._

"The three jumps that are a head are dangerous. Three cars crashed the last lap and now after four laps are down to ten cars, from thirty. Two laps to go."

_Just wait... breath... and... GO!_

Jeff stood at the large bank of windows in his office, overlooking the house and beach below. He had spent two years building this house bringing it to the specs he needed, for his plans. Now he was making those plans a reality, he was working on things of great importance deep in the bowels of this house. But right now he had other things to think about, a son with aspirations of greatness and a daughter with no fear.

He had his arms folded in front of him and Scott could see the tension riding down his father's back.

"So you know the likely hood that you will serve the time in the Asian conflict zone." He didn't make it a question.

"Yes sir." Scott was standing straight, not a full attention but aware that his father might turn around at any moment and expect him to be ready.

Jeff took a deep breath. "I have always know you would pursue this line Scott, I just had hoped for no wars by that time." He then turned to look at his eldest son, no longer the ex-military, ex-astronaut, CEO of a Internationally recognized company, billionaire widower, but as a father.

Scott gave a smile that was far too old for him. "That would be a fool's paradise dad."

"No a fool's paradise would be to believe that I will be able to convince your sister to stop racing." There was a grimace and a sigh as he walked up to his son.

"She's a Tracy dad. She more bull headed than you with the passion of mom." Scott looked at him.

"Is she really that good?" Jeff asked.

"Yeah dad... I haven't seen better and to top it off she is the best there is with an engine." Scott stated.

"Why couldn't she be the piano player." Jeff said shaking his head.

"Because she prefers to get dirty, is tone deaf, and Virgil refuses to teach her." Jeff laughed at that.

"Wow would you look at that, number seven is bobbing and weaving through, drifting and dodging around the track, a couple of times almost flying of the top edge this is what race fans came here to see, a racer with true courage and balls."

_Don't listen to the audience, listen to the car to the track. Feel the other cars around you. _

"Whoa... watch the back drift, the tail is listing heavy, knew I should have lightened the back end." The voice came over the head set, managing not to stutter.

_It isn't listing, is swinging... and I am using it... I am the car. _

"I can not believe you did that!" The anger in his voice was almost visible and it took all of Celesta's courage not to bolt from the room. It always amazed her, she could face down on coming cars at three hundred plus miles an hour but one man could scare the piss out of her.

"I did what you would have done." She shot back in a relatively steady voice.

"You put this family at risk not to mention your own life. What if..." but he was cut off.

"I could have what dad... been injured... died. What do you think Scott is doing playing checkers." She was frustrated. "You would not be having the conniption fits if it were Scott."

"Do you think it was easy watching him go off to train and then off to a war zone?" His voice was raising as was the color of his face.

Celesta knew this was dangerous ground but she couldn't seem to stop herself, she didn't want to stop herself. "I am not Scott, who is a brilliant tactician, who can fly anything... and I mean anything, with wings. I am not John who has already been accepted into the aeronautics program with NASA, will be a college graduate at age eighteen, and an astronaut at nineteen. I am not Virgil who is a world renown concert pianist or Gordon who has qualified for the Olympic swim team. I am a racer and mechanic. I know engines inside and out, and maybe if you let me into that secret hanger of yours I might be able to help Brains get those vehicles off the ground." And the moment she said it she knew she had crossed a line.

"Do not ever go down to that hanger. Do not ever work on anything there. If I find out you have been in there you will be confined to your room and the only way you will be leaving is for school. You are still at least in school, aren't you?" The tone was level and commanding and no negotiations.

"Yes dad I am in school. I have been doing tutors and hands on work. I have most of my classes via internet and my teacher have been very accommodating to the racing schedule." She kept her eyes level with him. They were her mothers eyes, but hair, a reddish tint, with golden highlights.

Just then his phone went off. He looked at Celesta and said. "This discussion is not over, we will be finishing it later." With that said she turned and went to her room.

"Okay... the turn is tight up there...y..ya.. you really should sl.. sla... slo.. reduce speed."

"It looks like number 7 is speeding up... there is no one in front and all the others are now working for second place."

"Oh ca.. ca... crap."

"What are you doing Celesta?" a small voice asked from the doorway.

She turned to see her youngest brother standing there leaning on it cautiously watching her pack her bag. "I have to go Squirt." She knew what the next question would be but she didn't have the heart to tell him not to ask.

"Can I come?" It was inquisitive, almost pleading.

Celesta bit her lip then sighed. "Sorry bro... not this time." She lay the last bit of clothing in the bag and zipped it up.

"But I'm small I won't take much room... I'll I'll be no trouble at all." The tone of desperation lay heavy in his voice and almost made Celesta stop. But her resolve was set.

"No Alan, you have to stay here." She lifted her bag and walked out of the room.

The drift of the lead car caused the dark haired young woman in the stands to grip the binoculars tighter.

_Focus... focus... there are other cars still behind me._

The voice of the driver filtered into her head. At those thoughts she let out a small breath before lowering the binoculars down and turn her eyes to the man sitting next to her.

_So similar._

His thoughts entered her mind and she closed her eyes to focus on her own mind blocking out the stray thoughts of those around her.

Scott's intense gaze followed the number seven car, remembering a conversation.

"Saw your race. Damn sis, did it ever occur to you not to take those jumps at nearing three hundred miles per hour." Scott said through the phone line.

The voice on the other end laughed. "Watch your language, dad would have your head. And I would not be able to make those jumps at anything less than that."

Then Scott's voice changed. "But seriously Celesta you don't have to drive so aggressively. You can let the other cars finish."

There was a sigh. "I drive with a purpose Scott."

"Right... and that is where you and dad disagree." He leaned against the wall as he held the phone.

"Speaking of dad how is he doing?"

"Nice change of subject, but well enough. Locking himself in the work room from what Alan and Gordon are saying." Scott responded. "He wants me to come back and work with him but there is talk of offering me an officers posi..."

Celesta cut him off. "Take him up on it Scott."

"What... has he been...?" Scott started.

"It's worth is Scott." Her tone was serious steady.

"Wait how do you know about this stuff?" He asked.

"I saw some of it before I left the island." There was a slight chuckle and her voice became laced heavily with irony. "Wasn't exactly what he wanted me to see."

"Well he does like to keep things close to the vest." He paused and she waited. "You really think I should?" He actually made it a question.

"Yes I do. I really do, both you and John need to trust him with this." She was strong in her convictions. She saw something that was going to lead to great things and she did not want her brothers to miss out on it.

"What about you Celesta what are you going to do?"

"Whoa look at that spin jump... we haven't seen driving like that in eight years. It looks like the apples do not fall far from the trees."

Brooding eyes watched the screen in front of him instead of the sunset behind him. The bank of windows revealing water, sand and sky was ignored but the flashing blurs of color on the large screen were not.

_Words... it could be words that destroy a family. Not everything else... just words, words said in anger, said in haste. Or words not spoken at all._

He was concerned for the driver of number seven but when aren't you when it is your child out there on the track.

"We are investigating all parts of her life Mr. Tracy." The inspector said. "It is necessary to understand the person so we can understand the possible crime."

"Celesta no longer comes home. I haven't seen her in a year, and haven't spoken with her in four months. She has her own place and agenda that we as a family do no agree with." Jeff kept his voice level even though his hands were clenched behind his back.

"It isn't just about being current, it is about know who she was as well." The inspector was looking directly at Jeff, a level of calmness that was mirrored on Jeff's face if not in his heart.

_She left, she chose to race over her family, she chose to deify what I wanted from her. My desire to protect her._ But he did not say those words. "We simply changed directions Inspector. We no longer were on the same game plan. So when we could no longer agree, we parted ways."

"No animosity, no desire to right a wrong? No pull to bring her back to the family?" The inspector shook his head. "That does not seem like you Mr. Tracy."

"I haven't given up Inspector. My daughter and I are just at a stalemate." He looked the other gentleman in the eyes and waited for this stalemate to end.

"It is like watching a dancer with his shadow. An amazing feet of swing and motion."

_Two turns to the left whip around, slip right. _

"It almost looks like the same drive, Scott."

"It is Tin Tin, he is dancing with a ghost."

Scott watched in horror, watched the news reel scroll on the screen. He heard his fathers glass hit the floor but was fixated on the images before him.

"This was an awful crash ladies and gentlemen. The number eight car was sent reeling. The fire is still not under control, we saw Racer X move through the flames but he too has not made it out of the tunnel. There seems to be a problem finding the ejector seat and driver. Wait Racer X has just been seen exiting the tunnel, he is radioing in..." The words filtered out as a larger explosion billowed out behind the reporter. "He tried to get the driver out but was unable to do so... oh my god... in ten years we haven't had a death here, now..."

The television flipped off as Scott watched Alan run from the room. He bolted up and was after him. He knew this would hit his father hard, he would need a moment to recover and Alan needed someone right then. She had taught him how to handle a car, taken him out onto the track with her, had been his confidant and guide... now.

Scott reached Alan's bedroom and heard the sobs. He moved in and saw his baby brother laying face down on the bed sobbing. Without a word Scott moved up and took him up in a hug, the sobs and cries barely muffled into his chest.

"No... no ... no." He repeated over and over again, just holding on to Scott, who now felt his own tears slide down his face. As he looked up he saw his father standing just outside the door, his own pain written clearly on his face.

The red number seven car flipped around and slid to a stop. The bright blue eyes twinkled under the helmet. "Miss ya sis."

"Oh my god, that was beautiful, that was grand, this driver has shone to the world he is no longer in his sister's shadow. Where ever she is now, god rest her soul, you know that Celesta Tracy is proud of her baby brother Alan."

Dark eyes watched the screen and a graveled voice spoke. "Looks like he is good enough... the only question is will he help."

A small smile flickered over his companions face and a light but sturdy female voice spoke. "He will, he might not be able to save everyone but he will try."

"So you don't think that he will break?"

"No... he does more than drive and it doesn't break him. All we have to do is make him more than a driver... we have to make him driven."


	2. Chapter 2

**Racing Lightning**

**Chapter Two**

**by T.F. Kit**

"Well, hello there folks, what an amazing run at Fairway Slop today."

Bright blue eyes lifted from the paper before him to look at the television.

"The driving was spectacular. Especially the new comer to Turbo Racing Alan Tracy." A film of a driver lifting himself out of his red car then taking off his helmet to reveal fluffy blond hair and a thousand watt smile played for a moment.

"Well aren't you handsome." Tin Tin said as she sat down next to Alan, brushing her long dark hair out. Alan smiled but kept his focus on in front of him.

"This Tracy has made quite a name for himself in the European Rally circuit but this was only his second Turbo style race. I am seeing more and more of his sister in his style of driving, aggressive but graceful."

"Yeah Jim.."

Alan picked up the remote and changed the channel. Tin Tin watched him and let only a slight amount of concern show on her face. She knew Celesta was an incredibly touchy subject. Alan continued to flip through channels.

"Greatest deal ever.." *click* "..if you act now." *click* "Look at what this does.." *click*

"You know Alan this la.. la la late at ni ni ni night, most of wa wa wa whats on is infomercials" A gangly young man with a mop of dark tossled hair and thick dark rimed glasses walked in working on a small hand held computer. He came in and sat down on the couch.

Alan still flipped through the channels searing until he came upon a news broad cast.

"Now what you have here is a piece of a machine that creates a reality totally of the mind. I don't believe that is possible." The anchorman said.

"Actually I was inspired by a philosophical debate on solipsism."

Alan however was reading the scrolling words on the bottom of the screen.

_**A large earthquake has trapped sixty people in an underground hotel in Thailand... International Rescue has just come on the scene.**_

"So you partially sedate the subject and the machine.."

*click* Alan was again scrolling through the channels searching for any information on what was going on with the Thunderbirds, with his brothers.

Tin Tin continued to observe Alan. What lay out on the table in front of him was the track schematics for their next race. Nothing too overly technical but enough that he could get a reasonable feel for it before he had a chance to run it. Notes from interviews with other racers about the track but what he was focused on was International Rescue.

She looked over then to Fermat the younger boy had shot up in the last couple of years. Both he and Alan had been working with International Rescue in different capacities. Alan with his brothers piloting rescuing, Fermat with his father Hiram "Brains" Hackenbraker designing repairing and working with the Thunderbird machines.

She had been working with information and communications, only occasionally working in the field. Tin Tin gave a small sigh. Alan was here to race, that is what he and his father had planed for him to do, to ensure that he really wanted to work the family 'business'.

Finally she spoke. "So from the information we have it is the center run weave through the spike hills jumps that are going to be the toughest. Most of the drivers say that you want to be in the middle of the pack better grip on the launching." Her voice brought Alan back to the moment, to why he had argued to come here in the first place.

"Wa... right middle of the pack.. the only one that disagrees... kinda with that.." His hands shuffled through the papers and pulled out a faded newspaper article. "... is Racer X." At that name Fermat looked up from what he was doing. "Let me see.. here it is... 'if you want to play it safe sure stay in the middle of the pack but if you want to run with the big boys push right at the beginning of those jumps Punch it through to the lead while everyone else is slowing down you are leaving them in the dust." Alan had taken on an imitative voice as he spoke.

"He is kinda scary." Fermat said.

"Yeah but he is really cool." Alan responded with a big grin. "Him and Speed Racer... would I ever like to meet them."

Fermat shook his head. "Not me.. Ra rra rra Racer X the harbinger of Boom, no thank you. He is al al al almost as sc sssc ssca sscca frightening as your dad is when your dad is angry." Fermat was again working on his portable computer.

"Note.." Tin Tin said. "..he said almost." She grinned.

"Note.." Alan said. ".. he also said when my dad is angry not when Racer X is angry."

"Exactly!" Fermat exclaimed. "Now I was plotting out a bit of the next race and I think you should be able to place for the Grand Prix if you rank in the top four for the next six races."

Alan looked at the schematics and notes and nodded. The Grand Prix was the be all end all in the Racing scene. Everyone from Rally Racers, to Trick Racers, to Turbo Racer wanted in. Alan had never raced enough in one season to place. Between schooling and rescues he had a fairly full plate. This season he had already run two Europeans and now two Tubos, with a total of ten races he could be able to place. To place higher in the standings and ensure his place in the Grand Prix, he would have to run more than that

This was the hard part for Alan, he loved racing he loved the speed the control the thrill he got from competing, but to really compete would me giving up a lot of other things. Time with his family, his friends, and International Rescue.

Alan knew why he was here, in fact he was the one who was pushing for it. When he was at home working with IR part of his mind was always on racing. When he would have to drop a race because it coincided with his time up in Thunderbird Five or he couldn't make the start in time because a rescue went too long, or when he couldn't place because he hadn't raced enough.

He had found resistance from his dad when the time came to ask about pursuing this. In fact it actually had become an intense discussion, almost yelling. If Scott hadn't stepped in to help cool of the situation if would have ended badly.

****

"Dad?" Alan tentatively poked his head into his father's office.

The elder Tracy looked up and smiled. "Alan what can I do for you son?"

Alan looked at the folder in his hands before straightening up and stepping into the room. "I have something I would like to discuss with you." He said.

Jeff's brow furrowed slightly and said. "Okay have a seat."

Alan walked in and sat down. "I was thinking about the next year and what I wanted to do."

"So you have decided about college." Jeff nodded. "Good for you. Which one are you going to?"

Alan took a deep breath and said. "I want to run the race circuit this year and place in the Grand Prix." He watched the subtle emotions run the gambit through his fathers eyes before Jeff spoke again in a controlled and measured tone. "Alan when I said think about the next year and what you wanted to do I meant college. It would prepare you for anything you wanted to do." Jeff leveled a very concerned gaze at Alan. "Racing is..."

"Something I love to do and have been doing for sometime.." He took another breath preparing for the potential onslaught afterwards. "..even before you knew and before you say 'I knew before you told me.' I was racing before that. Though I am no where near as good on a motorcycle as I am in a car, I have done both and am good at it."

Jeff's hands clenched into fists on the desk before he brought them back to his chair. "You need a sponsor, a crew, a manager, there are plenty of things you are not prepared to for this." Jeff said, trying to reason with Alan.

For his part Alan then placed the folder on his father's desk. "Actually I have been planing it and talking to several people for a while. Planing and figuring out how to make it work."

He watched as Jeff took the folder and looked over what was inside. "Tin Tin and Fermat have agreed to come along with with and Tin Tin is willing to work as a manager for me, she is kinda good at that stuff. Then the sponsor... well..." Alan looked as Jeff reached the page that said what his words weren't.

"Tracy Industries." Jeff finished the thought. "I know our engineering department has been looking for a driver to test some of the products we produce but I don't know if this is the right time for you." His jaw clenched as he set the folder down."The amount of races you would need to compete in and the level at which these driver race... Alan I am going to have to say no."

"Why?" Alan couldn't believe the level at which his father was speaking.

"I don't believe you have enough experience to go a full season racing." He grasped his hands together and scrutinized Alan's reactions.

"How am I going to get experience if I don't race?" Alan asked.

"You can do some racing before you start college then on the breaks..."

"Dad." Alan interrupted. "It was never between racing and going to college. Hell, I barely passed high school. I could do math only when I applied it to things I understood and liked and even then the only reason I made it through was Fermat and Tin Tin. Why would I continue to torcher myself with more school."

Jeff's mouth became a thin line. He knew what the alternative was, International Rescue. The other boys hadn't really grown up with it like Alan had. The four boys before him had passions outside of IR, had found their way into work with the Thunderbirds after a bit of their own lives but Alan had basically grown up with it. He was five when Jeff had moved them all to the island.

Then Jeff had spent many a night like a man possessed creating International Rescue to save lives so that people would not have to live with the tragedy that he had to live with. Now he was looking at his youngest child, who loved being a Thunderbird say he might want something else.

_Why racing? _Jeff's interior thoughts intruded.

Because he is really good dad. Another voice filtered in, one he did not want to hear from at that moment. He shoved it away as he spoke. "There are other options, there are schools, camps.."

"Dad, I've beaten most of the instructors in actual races." Alan was beginning to get exasperated, he stood up and started to move, his voice rising. "The opportunity for me and one that would ensure I am doing what I really want to do."

"And I am saying I don't think it is beneficial to offer you sponsor ship." His voice was also beginning to elevate in volume.

"Fine I can find a sponsor if you don't want to do it, which your company does. I have my car..."

"Your car?" At this Jeff stood up. "Your car, did you buy that car... did you put the time and effort into building it. I believe I got..."

"Don't you dare do that... I worked hard to make that a good race car..." Alan stopped dead in his tracks and looked at his father, "... just because I used the means around me to make it happen doesn't make it any less my car. But if that is the way you feel..."

Jeff opened his mouth to begin a rebuttal but was halted by Scott entering the room.

"Dad... Alan... Stop." The tension held in place as he walked up, concern blazing in his eyes. "Just cool off both of you before you say something you will regret."

Jeff almost shot something his eldest son's way but Scott had defiantly grown into his own strength with his time in the military and now field leader of the Thunderbirds.

"No dad, cool off." His tone was that of command, and Alan was impressed at his father's restraint. "Alan go find a place to blow off some steam while I talk to dad."

"But Scott..." Alan started with a slight wine and was immediately cut off.

"Alan go." Scott said with authority pointing to the door and Alan huffed, stalking out burning with anger and frustration.

_Scott was going to get dad's side first and take it. _Alan thought. _That is so not fair._

He went directly to his work room, or as his brothers had dubbed it Alan's garage. Alan loved cars, love motorbikes, loved about anything with an engine and he was not only good at driving them but good at building what he drove. He had two engines for T180s in there, in various stages of assembly He also had a partially put together motorbike. There were engine and frame parts strew across one side of the room. Next to that area was another bike one that was fully assembled painted a bright red with flames shooting along its sides. It was the one he normally used to ride around the island, the one dad only kinda knew about.

Fortunately Alan knew better then to drive when he was this pissed off, so he slammed his radio on and let the music crank as he went to work on the unfinished bike.

'I want to take his eyes out... just for looking at you... yes I do. I want to take his hands off... just for touching you... yes I do. And I want to rip his heart out...'

****

Alan stretched and rubbed his eyes before looking to Tin Tin on the couch. She was leaned back her eyes closed and hair spilling over the cushions in a dark cascade. _She looks gorgeous there. _He thought. She was his rock kept him out of so much trouble he couldn't keep track.

A small smile pulled at his mouth as he looked at her before he registered a snorting sound on his other side. Looking that way he saw Fermat sprawled in a chair mouth hanging open hands still holding his portable computer. The snorting sounds were emanating from him. At that sight Alan let the grin brake across his face. He sighed before looking back to the papers in front of him.

_Know your opponents know yourself. Isn't that what Scott would say. _Alan let his mind float back to the 'discussion' and outcome.

****

'Here comes the next contestant... Is that your hand on my girlfriend? Is that your hand?... I wish you'd do it again... I'll watch you leave here..'

"Alan!" Scott's voice cut through the music and Alan's no longer rambling thoughts.

'...There goes the next contestant.'

"Scott!" Alan jumped up and quickly turned down the music as he faced his older brother. "Sorry I just needed..."

"I know Alan." Scott came into the work shop.

Alan always admired and envied his big brother for many different reasons.

He was as tall as their father and very similar in walk, talk, and presence. His look also emulated their dad, but Scott always felt more relaxed, but he supposed that fathers were suppose to be hard on their sons.

"You needed to blow off steam." Scott spoke up as he continued forward. "I am just glad you didn't go and try and do it on the working bike."

Alan shuffled his feet looking down. He had noticed Scott's eyes were showing very little emotion at the moment and that made him nervous. "I just want to make sure I am in the right place. That I am doing the right thing for me, for everyone. I want to make sure that I belong with the Thunderbids." Alan brought his eyes up to attempt a steady strong assured look.

"I understand that Alan and dad, on a certain level understands that too. And for the record, you will always belong to the Thunderbirds. You are our brother and our friend. We can trust you, we do trust you. Dad does also, it is just harder for him to say so." Scott took a breath before letting the smile spread across his face. "So instead he just does like he is now by working on putting together a crew to move the car to the races you want to run and is talking to Brains and Kayno about Fermat and Tin Tin."

Alan's face lit up before he gave whooping yell and flung himself at Scott for a tackling hugging wrestle. Scott laughed and returned the affection before he spoke again. "Only one thing Alan, you need to be careful. This was not an easy decision for dad to let you do this and support you with it." Scott held Alan by the shoulders. "Just be aware."

Alan nodded acknowledging the seriousness of that statement. Neither one of them staying how much Celesta's death had hurt dad. It was not the crushing blow like with their mother, but he had not spoken much about her death, and that alone was indication of how it had hurt him.

****

Alan brought himself out of his thoughts and looked up again at Tin Tin. He stood then moving over to her and carefully lifted her up, carrying her to her bed. Fortunately she had not made her bed this morning and he was able to set her down prepared to tuck her under the sheets.

He sighed as he realized she had a grip on his shirt. "You are not making this easy." He said softly.

"I know." She returned with eyes closed and a light smile.


End file.
